


A Budding Romance

by agoodpersonrose



Series: A Budding Romance [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Lesbian Stevie Budd, Lesbian Twyla Sands, Post-Canon, Romance, Twyla Sands’ Freckles, Twyla's Cafe Tropical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28755858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: After the Roses leave Schitt's Creek, Stevie finds herself feeling more alone than ever, and turns to the one person in town that can truly understand her.
Relationships: Alexis Rose & Twyla Sands, Patrick Brewer/David Rose (mentioned), Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands
Series: A Budding Romance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151210
Comments: 31
Kudos: 47





	A Budding Romance

It’s been a week since the Roses left town. David and Patrick are moving into the cottage and while they have requested her help with unpacking tomorrow, Stevie thought it was probably for the best to leave them to their privacy for the first night at least.

Though that does leave her a little listless.

The motel has been eerily silent for the past few days. At first it was louder than ever, with Alexis coming down to the office every other moment to gift something to Stevie that wouldn’t fit in her suitcase. Something she didn't want but accepted anyway; she learned long ago that it was better to pick your battles when it came to the Roses. Then, David and Patrick coming to clear out David’s stuff, and avalanche of fussing and bother, and Patrick beaming at his new husband as though he were staring at the sun.

Then, they were all gone.

Stevie hasn’t felt this sort of loneliness in a long time. The ache of silence, and the knowledge that nobody will be coming to break it with a towel complaint, or a well-meaning phrase that she can barely understand. It’s not something she’s felt since before the Roses arrived, and it’s not something she finds welcome now.

To be utterly alone.

“You okay, Stevie?”

Although of course, not completely alone.

Stevie swings her feet on the barstool and turns towards Twyla, who is smiling at her patiently. Never asking for anything, never pushing.

“Hm,” is all Stevie can manage in that moment, as she sucks the last dregs of the ‘Rosebush Mojito’ Twyla had made as a special for the wedding reception out of the bottom of her glass. It’s sweet, and strong, and completely and utterly vile. She'd regret ordering it if it hadn't been done in a moment of weakness, of missing her newfound family.

“Can I make you another one?”

Stevie shakes her head. “I think one drink on your own is okay, but two is bordering on pathetic.”

“Well, my shift is almost over, and I do technically own the café now although most of the paperwork hasn’t been put through yet. How about I join you?”

Stevie nods silently as Twyla turns to make another drink, her tea towel thrown over her shoulder, and her long ponytail swinging as she works. She’s kind of beautiful, not that Stevie would ever let herself think that. Not that David would ever let her get away with saying that. With her long neck and shoulders, and freckled cheeks. She's so different to everyone else in this town; so genuinely honest, and kind, and thoughtful. And really really beautiful.

“Yeah, I never asked. How is it that you go from working your ass off in here, six shifts a week, to owning the joint? You didn't do anything illegal, did you?”

Twyla’s laugh is merely a tinkle as she puts the lid onto the cocktail shaker with a tap and starts shaking it casually. “You know I learned those lessons from my mom long ago. I just happened along some money, I'll tell you about it some other time, and- and Alexis said that maybe I should invest in something I wanted. Something that would make me happy.”

Stevie frowns. “And this? This is what makes you happy?”

“Doesn't the motel make you happy?”

Stevie drums her fingers on the counter in thought. “Perhaps. When Roland isn’t driving me insane, and when Mr Rose isn’t asking me every other second how to open a file on the computer,” Stevie accepts the glass that is pushed across the bar towards her, brushing her fingers across the condensation that has already collected in tiny patterns. “It’s nice to know that I can do it, you know? That there is something out there that is mine, that I’m responsible for. Gives me a purpose.”

Twyla nods slowly.

“Is that how it feels for you?”

She shakes her head. “Not quite. I don’t really think of this place as a responsibility I- I think of it as a privilege.”

Stevie snorts in disbelief, but watches patiently as Twyla pulls her apron off, placing it in a basket by the door to the kitchen. She rounds the counter and hops onto the bar next to Stevie, pulling her own drink towards her and swirling it around in the glass.

“You really think that it’s a privilege to serve rude customers, who don’t tip enough, and ask for ridiculous orders. Was it a privilege to serve Mrs Rose? Didn’t I see her throw a muffin at you once?”

Twyla smiles as if reminded of a happy memory. “She did. But, so did Alexis.”

“I’m not quite understanding.”

“It is a privilege for me to be in this position. Front row to all the drama, and the mayhem of the town, sure. But also front row to the joy. I got to see the Roses flourish here, and come to love each other as a family. I got to see Roland and Jocelyn go on a new adventure together with their baby. I got to see Patrick and David fall in love and build a business and then a life together. I got to see you--”

At this, Twyla’s face softens, and the look she gives Stevie is so full of genuine hope, and something else that she can’t quite read.

“You know, you come into the café every single day?” Twyla asks softly.

“How else would I eat?” Stevie asks, aiming for sarcastic but unable to quite hit the mark. “I’m not learning how to cook.”

“I have known you for almost my whole life, and I can genuinely say, you are not the same person I knew when we were growing up. The Roses changed you, and I- I got the honour of watching it happen.”

Stevie swallows, suddenly feeling choked up. She looks down at her drink and fiddles with the straw, pushing the ice round in circles as she tries to come up with something else to say.

“Do you not find it lonely?” is what comes out of her mouth. “Behind the counter- Behind the apron, and the nametag. That you get to see it all happen but never get to step out and take part yourself?”

Twyla looks pityingly at her for a moment and shakes her head. “You’re allowed to come out from behind the desk, Stevie. You just have to let yourself take that first step.”

Their knees knock under the counter, and Stevie makes a split-second decision. She shifts in her stool, pushing herself further into Twyla’s space and reaches out a hand to cup her cheek, tilting her head just so until their lips are finally pressed together. Twyla is grinning as she returns the kiss with a lot more grace than Stevie, who fumbles for the counter top to hold herself upright, kissing her friend with all her might, unable to let these moments pass without getting the most she possibly can out of it.

They stay locked together for a few moments more, before Stevie finally pulls back. She shifts fully back into her seat and immediately looks away, bashful despite her bravery, and from the risk she just took. When she peeks out of the corner of her eye, however, Twyla is still looking at her, and she has such a look a patience on her face, as if she had been waiting for this moment forever.

Unsure of how to proceed, Stevie picks up her glass and takes a long sip, frowning at the unfamiliar taste.

“This isn’t the Rosebush, is it?” she asks. It’s stronger, made with some sort of whiskey and just a tiny bit of sweetener, exactly to her tastes. She takes another contented sip and looks up at Twyla.

“I call this one the ‘Budd’. I figured, sometimes a flower in bloom isn’t the only thing that needs to be celebrated. Sometimes the bud is just as beautiful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Becca writing F/F fanfic for the first time in her life?? More likely than you'd think. 
> 
> I really really hope you enjoyed this one, and that I did the vaguely unfamiliar characters justice! Let me know what you thought in the comments! 🌹


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